


Superior Scavenging Skills and Other Happiness

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Prompt Fills 2018 [14]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14209920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the free-for-all comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Multiverse, Any, explaining Easter traditions to non-humans."The Atlantis Expedition brings Easter to the children of Athos, and Teyla learns about the holiday from various people.





	Superior Scavenging Skills and Other Happiness

Teyla stood behind Rodney, watching as Lorne paced the length of the table he’d arranged for the Athosian children. Over the past few weeks he’d collected many eggshells, which the Tau’ri usually broke to prepare certain meals, typically breakfast. Now he was showing the children how to paint and color the eggs by dipping them into colored water.

“And this is a tradition on your planet?”

“In some cultures on our planet,” Rodney said.

Sometimes Teyla forgot just how populous Earth was, being free from the Wraith. As she understood it, Earth was not much bigger than Athos, had similarly-sized land masses, but it was so much more densely populated, enough so that there were whole groups of people who had never met each other and couldn’t talk to each other.

“And what is the tradition for?”

“It’s a commercialized trap to convince people to buy useless decorations and to encourage early onset diabetes,” Rodney said.

Judging by the expression on John’s face, he disagreed with the characterization very much.

“No, it’s to celebrate spring,” he said. “The eggs and the bunnies and stuff - they all represent fertility and - and new life.”

Bunnies, as Teyla understood them, were furry creatures whose likenesses were most often depicted on footwear worn especially at bedtime - many of the scientists possessed such footwear - but they were creatures who also bred very quickly. They were, according to Dr. Barton the zoologist, small, soft-furred, and had long ears.

In addition to painting the eggs, Lorne had showed the Athosian children how to cut out paper bags so they resembled bunny heads, with the long ears, pink triangular noses, and whiskers. Apparently once the eggs were painted, they would be collected by the adults and hidden. On Easter Morning proper, the children would be set loose in Atlantis to hunt for the eggs. Once the eggs were collected, whoever had the most eggs would receive a prize, and also there would be other treats.

“A lot of times kids get Easter baskets full of candy, and usually a new set of clothes or something. For spring,” John continued. “Sometimes families go to church, too.”

Rodney huffed. “Church. Easter - like Halloween and Christmas - is one of those trite, over-commercialized holidays built on the backbone of petty superstition.”

“Superstition?” Teyla asked. She knew churches, for the Tau’ri, were a type of building specially designated for religious worship. Other people, like Dr. Raberba, worshipped in places called Mosques. Dr. Abrams had worshipped in a synagogue. So many religions, not simply reverence for the Ancestors.

“Yes,” Rodney said firmly.

Lorne said, “Originally, Easter was a holiday to celebrate spring. Ancient humans believed a goddess was responsible from bringing spring after winter, and so Easter was a feast to worship her and celebrate her bounty. It was also sometimes a feast to enjoy other aspects of fertility.” He cleared his throat pointedly, and Teyla understood.

“If we still celebrated that part of Easter, maybe I’d like it better,” Rodney muttered.

“But the holiday was sort of adopted and adapted to fit a different religion,” Lorne said. “One that a lot of the Americans share. I’m sure you’ve heard tell of it - Christianity.”

Teyla nodded. “Yes. Nurse Marie is quite devout.”

Rodney snorted again.

“Easter is now typically considered a Christian holiday. It’s also about new life.”

“You mean zombies,” Rodney said.

Teyla knew that zombies were a kind of semi-fictional monster on Earth, humans who had come back from the dead but only part way, were shambling and filled with mindless hunger and a desire to consume human flesh, most often brains.

“It’s - Christians believe that a man, a demi-god, died for them, so they could be saved. And then came back to life.”

“It’s all made up,” Rodney said. “If there’s anything the Stargate program has taught us, it’s that miracles and magic are just science, and the ancient gods humanity once believed in were cruel, tyrannical aliens.”

“Some people still believe it’s real, and they celebrate the holiday sincerely,” Lorne said. “It’s not just about candy and bunnies and chicks. It’s about - renewal, and faith.”

John raised his eyebrows. “You a believer?”

Lorne laughed. “Ah, no. No, my mother and grandmother would never have held with that. I grew up with the much Earthier, more goddess-based version of the holiday. But I dated a girl who really believed.”

“And she converted you?” Rodney asked.

“No. But - some of what she said made sense.”

“What part of any of that makes sense?” Rodney demanded. “The whole dying and coming back to pay for other people’s sins. Why should anyone die for anyone else?”

It was Sergeant Coughlin who said, “I dunno, Doc, why are you out here almost getting eaten by Wraith all the time? Who back home is worth that?”

Lieutenant Stevens said, with an air of someone quoting something, “Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”

Lorne said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for strangers who’d spit in his face and call him a baby-killer if he made it home.”

Teyla was startled by the bitterness in his voice.

John glanced at him. “Your old man served in Nam?”

Lorne nodded. “Survived the war. Didn’t survive coming home.”

John winced.

Teyla knew she was missing a lot of the context of that exchange, but judging by Rodney’s unhappy frown and Coughlin and Stevens’s expressions, whatever had happened to Lorne’s father, it hadn’t been good.

Before she could ask for clarification, Lorne stepped toward the table, answering Wex’s summons. He crouched down beside Wex and accepted the little wire egg-holder from him, showed him how to dip it into the colored water and hold it there for a moment.

Teyla turned to Lorne’s other teammates, but Stevens and Coughlin were moving to help other children.

Rodney edged closer to John. “Was I offensive, do you think? Should I apologize?”

John shook his head. “Sounds like Lorne has his own hang-ups about this holiday and the concept of Jesus in general.”

Teyla said, “What’s Jesus?”

Rodney started to speak, paused. “I’m not really qualified to answer that. Maybe talk to someone in anthropology. Or perhaps - perhaps someone who’s, you know, Christian.”

The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully enough, the children decorating their eggs and their paper bunny bags. Once they were finished painting, they ran off to play, and Lorne and his teammates made sure the eggs dried before they gathered them into a single basket.

John explained that on Earth, oftentimes the eggs children searched for were made of plastic, could be opened and then re-sealed many times, and were filled with sweets or small toys or, if parents were wealthy enough, money. The fiction on Earth was that a creature called the Easter Bunny hid the eggs with the presents inside of them and also brought the ornate gift baskets full of treats and more gifts.

“So the Easter Bunny is like Santa,” Teyla asked.

“Kind of,” John said, with his brow furrowed in that way that meant  _ not really. _

“Like Santa, the Easter Bunny is a fiction perpetrated on children,” Rodney said. “Although children’s presents aren’t held hostage to impossible standards of good behavior with the Easter Bunny like they are for Santa.”

Lorne and the Marines conducted a census of the eggs twice, made sure they had an accurate number, and then the Marines were dispatched to certain designated areas of the city that the Athosian children could search without disturbing on-duty personnel, as not all personnel had Easter Sunday off.

Lorne instructed the Marines to radio in every single hiding place they selected in which to conceal an egg, and he, Chuck, and Amelia made a master-map of all the eggs.

“Is hiding the eggs usually such a grand affair?” Teyla asks.

“Depends on the parents and the kids,” John said. “Some kids are good at finding eggs, others not so much.”

“When parents are stupider than their children, finding the eggs is hardly a challenge,” Rodney said.

Teyla raised her eyebrows. “You celebrated Easter as a child?”

“Of course. McKays were Scottish Presbyterian for generations and generations - it’s a type of Christian. Jeannie and I never bought into the notion of the Easter Bunny. But - the candy was nice. As were the new clothes.” Rodney shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable.

In two days’ time, the Athosian children would be allowed to find the eggs.

Between now and then, other preparations were made, mostly in the way of chocolate. Lorne had specially ordered a large batch of chocolate-making supplies from Earth. His teammates helped him prepare the candies, while other Marines stood guard on the kitchens to make sure no one stole any of the chocolate.

“Did your parents make you chocolate?” Teyla asked John and Rodney over supper that night.

Two Marines were standing by the doors that led from the mess hall to the kitchen, checking on their radios before granting anyone entrance.

Rodney snorted. “No.”

“No, but sometimes they’d get us really nice handmade chocolate,” John admitted.

“Us?” Rodney asked.

“I have a younger brother.”

Rodney frowned. “You never mentioned him.”

John shrugged. “You never mentioned Jeannie till she was about to arrive on Atlantis, and Dave is never coming to Atlantis.”

After supper, Teyla handed her tray back, then went to the two Marines standing guard on the kitchens.

“I wish to speak to Major Lorne.”

One of the them tapped his radio, murmured softly. Then he met her gaze, nodded, and let her into the kitchen.

Lorne was standing at the counter, an apron on over his uniform, sleeves rolled up. In addition to the trays and trays and trays of little chocolates, there was a box of the plastic eggs that John and Rodney had described.

“What are the extra eggs for?” she asked.

“Those are the ones from the Easter Bunny. We’ll put chocolate in them,” Lorne said.

“You mean you and your teammates are the Easter Bunny,” Teyla translated.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Yes.”

“And the prize for the most eggs found?”

“Apart from loads of chocolate?” Lorne nodded in the direction of the far counter, and Teyla saw a giant chocolate egg, about the size of a human head.

It was decorated with ornate white designs, flowers and stars and moons and hearts and other shapes.

“Don’t worry,” Lorne said, “it’s hollow. Pretty fragile shell. Don’t want any of the Athosian kids going diabetic.”

“Did you make it?” Teyla asked.

Lorne nodded. “Yeah.”

“It is beautiful.”

“Gotta make that prize worth the work of hunting down the eggs.” Lorne glanced at her again, smiled briefly. “If you help me fill eggs, I’ll look the other way when you sneak a couple pieces of chocolate.”

She smiled back at him. “I would be glad to assist for free, though I will not refuse free chocolate either.” She washed her hands and moved to stand beside him, followed his example of putting three chocolates in each egg.

They worked in companionable silence. After a while, Teyla said, “You are putting much effort into this holiday. I appreciate it very much. I know the children do too, though I doubt they understand the holiday’s true significance. I don’t understand it myself.”

Lorne shrugged. “Everyone treats holidays differently. You heard McKay. For some people they’re just over-commercialized excuses to sell candy and decorations. For other people it’s celebrating the change in seasons and the Earth itself. For yet other people it’s a time to spend with family. And for yet others it’s a time of reflection, introspection, and renewal.”

“What does it mean for you?”

Lorne’s hands stilled. Then he resumed filling plastic eggs with chocolate. “It was the day my father died. The Easter before I was born. In me he lives again.”

Teyla wasn’t sure what that meant, but she had the notion that she had learned something about Lorne that no one, not John or Elizabeth or even Kate, knew.

Easter Morning dawned bright and sweet, and Teyla stood with the Athosian children in the gate room. They were practically dancing in anticipation while Lorne handed out their little bunny bags. 

Once everyone had their bags, they were set loose - along a specially designated path lined with Marines and civilian volunteers. Teyla trailed along behind them, watching them poke in nooks and crannies, behind decorations and boxes, peek around doors and windows, crying out in triumph as they found eggs, some they’d decorated themselves, some that Lorne and the Marines had hidden later.

The children quickly figured out that if they spread out instead of staying as a group, they maximized their egg counts, because the children in front found all the eggs before the children behind. The children behind moved past the children who’d stopped, and many eggs were had.

At the end of the great hunt, Wex had found the most eggs. The children gathered in the mess hall and there was much fanfare as Sergeant Coughlin, Lieutenant Stevens, and Lieutenant Walker brought out the grand prize, the giant chocolate egg.

Wex’s eyes were wide and solemn. While the Athosians were capable of art, none of them had ever made or traded for anything so grand.

“I am allowed to keep it? It is mine?” Wex asked.

“Yeah, it’s yours, buddy,” Coughlin said.

“Or you could, you know, eat it,” Walker said.

Wex frowned. “Eat it?”

“It’s chocolate,” Stevens said.

Wex’s eyes went wide again. “Chocolate,” he breathed reverently.

The other children all looked on in envy.

It was Rodney who said, “Look, if you open one of your own eggs, I’m sure you have some chocolate for yourself.”

Jinto peered into his bunny bag. “But I don’t want to break the eggs.”

“No, you won’t break it, just -” Rodney reached into the bunny bag and plucked out one of the plastic eggs. 

Jinto cried out in alarm when Rodney cracked it in half, but then Rodney showed him the hinge and how to close the egg again. Jinto took the egg from him, tried it himself, and was delighted.

Rodney sighed. “The point is not the egg, the point is what’s inside of it.”

Another child who’d been watching opened one of his own eggs, scooped up a piece of chocolate, and popped it into his mouth. 

Like that, all of the children were digging into their own eggs, ignoring the adults.

“Well,” John said, “I think this is my cue to leave. Enjoy the sugared-up kids, Teyla. Happy Easter.” He clapped her on the shoulder and scooted out of the mess hall.

“Happy Easter,” she called after him.

All around her, her people’s children were smiling, and she thought, for the Athosians, this would be what Easter was about. Superior scavenging skills, chocolate, and happiness.

She glanced at Lorne and saw him smiling too and hoped that this Easter had brought him some happiness too.


End file.
